Little Boy :)

Matthew isn’t “cute” yet. He still looks like an angry, rumpled old man. But, he is beautiful. He is a miracle. The word miracle comes from a Latin word that means “to marvel at.” Fitting. I think that the exquisiteness of one, tiny baby is sometimes lost to us amid the seemingly numberless little ones all equally exquisite. But, they are numbered unto God, and He knows them, and when you contemplate the intentionality of each of those flawless fingers and toes, the uniqueness of the miracle of that child strikes you. God does have a plan for us and I believe that every cell we come into this life with is part of it. When I saw Nick Vujicic (see previous post) at the Tabernacle, he made a point of saying that he knew his condition (being born with no limbs) was not a mistake, nor was it an accident. And, evidently, his physical body has allowed him to fulfill a work he certainly could not have otherwise. More importantly, it seems that his condition has placed him in exactly the set of circumstances necessary for him to come to the relationship he now has with God. It makes me wonder about God’s plan for little, perfectly formed Matthew. What does God have in store for him, such that he saw to it that he was born so incredibly whole? I realize being born this way is rather the rule; but I’m confident that it’s nonetheless intentional.

Perhaps you can’t tell from the picture, but he’s got red hair. My mom and I we’re thrilled! Red hair runs on both sides of my brother’s family (meaning his and his wife’s), but since my brother and I both have dark hair, we weren’t expecting for Kimberly (Matthew’s older sister), much less for Matthew, to have red hair. Of course we wouldn’t have cared whether his hair was black, blue, or purple; we would have been just as excited for him to come!

It has been so wonderful watching Kimberly become her own little person. Every new expression or habit I catch, I wonder “Who are you, little girl?” It’s true that she has wonderful parents, but she does such marvelous things that are all her own. One of the purest expressions of pure love I have ever known is when my little Kimmy walks quietly up to me and puts her small, sweet arms around me for no reason. I wonder what on Earth could provoke her to do that; but she isn’t provoked. It was her idea, because she loves me, and she knows that that’s what we do to show love. I can’t wait for little Matthew to be able to show us the things in his heart.

I have reflected a lot on the purity of children as I’ve developed my photography. I began learning photography by mostly doing candids and portraits of small children, as they tend to be the most willing subjects. However, the more portraits of adults I did, the more I saw the care, the pretense, the uncertainty, the insecurities that we carry in our countenances. With children, it’s not so. Children’s faces are open; their expressions so accurately reflect their thoughts and desires. And they’re alarmingly perceptive. You cannot deceive a child. We’ve learned sophisticated ways of telling our stories, but what a child’s inexperienced intellect may not be able to sort out, their hearts will still feel.

And so I plead, on behalf of my Kimmy and my Matthew, that we be careful with the little children. Do not say or do things believing they can’t understand you. They don’t feel things less because they are inexperienced; they feel them more acutely because they are pure. They don’t need to understand what you’re saying or doing to know what you mean and what you’re about. The Savior tells us that to find our lives, we must first lose them. I think this is especially true when we lose ourselves—our pretense and all that jazzJ—to little children.